


The Beta Reader

by Licoriceallsorts



Category: FFVII
Genre: Gen, beta reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-28
Updated: 2011-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:39:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Licoriceallsorts/pseuds/Licoriceallsorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfic writer is only as good as her - or his - beta. This is very silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beta Reader

 

There’s a story behind this picture.

Last night, on Elena’s suggestion, Rufus watched an episode of a TV series called “Smart/Bored”, about the struggles of a single mother working as a inner-city primary school teacher in a run-down town in an imaginary world not all that different from his own, but with more gravity. It was an ingenious show; he could see why Elena liked it. Still, Rufus had higher standards than his underlings, and he felt the show would benefit from some revisions. “If you want something done right, do it yourself,” he thought as he sat down and began to pen the outline for a new episode, which he intended to send to the production company for their edification and profit.

First, he needed to do something about the protagonist's name. Brenda Morrison sounded so drab and dowdy. What was wanted was a name that reeked of romance, a name that declared: "this female is a heroine!"  After chewing the end of his pen for a while, and crossing out several false starts, he finally settled on Amethyst Venezia Peridot, a name which he felt conveyed the desired impression of jewelled exoticism. Next, he changed her eye colour from brown to flashing opalescent viridian, flecked with sunset gold, and gave her a new hairdo: gone was the graying, easy-maintenance cut, replaced by flowing locks of silky amber streaked, as if by the hand of a master artist wielding the finest renaissance squirrel-hair brush, with autumn-leaf tints of russet, aubergine, and chocobo yellow. He endowed her with a rare kind of very unique beauty, blindingly obvious to all who glimpsed her, but invisible to herself, due to her extraordinary modesty.

Rufus was beginning to grow fond of this creature, into which he had poured so much of himself, so he rewarded her with a promotion from classroom teacher to school principal, as well as slicing a number of years off her age; she was now only eighteen years old.  The people of her community shared their joys with her, and also their woes; no problem was so insuperable that she could not solve it with a smile and some wise words. Everybody loved her. The schoolchildren all adored her, and crept into her office out of hours to leave anonymous gifts of apples and flowers. Civic holidays were declared in her honour. Highly successful schools in richer parts of the city tried to tempt her onto their staff with offers of astronomical salaries, but she always declined. Humanity and the love of education were what drove her, not material things.

 In the episode Rufus had watched, the teacher was trying in her spare time to learn a language called japanese (this place, ‘Japan’, was a thinly-disguised Wutai; _dear lord_ , thought Rufus _, what poverty of imagination!_ ). She wanted to visit ‘Japan’, but she couldn’t afford the ticket. Rufus allowed her to win the lottery amidst general rejoicing, made her fluent in the language, and sent her off to ‘Japan’ in a submarine.  Every single man (and married man) on board the submarine was desperate to share her bunk and instruct her virgin body in the pleasures of the flesh, but her heart was set on the pen-pal with whom she had been practicing her ‘japanese’ for many years through exchanges of lightly-scented letters. Rufus’s heart beat a little faster just thinking about it.

            When she arrived, _he_ was waiting for her, mounted on his white unicorn with its diamond hooves, his long black hair blowing in the breeze, his six-pack rippling with barely-suppressed emotion. With one strong hand he swept her up behind him; she clasped her arms around his muscular yet slim waist, laid her cheek trustingly against his broad shoulder, and together they galloped off into the sunset.

            Rufus closed the notebook. “Now this,” he thought happily, “Is what I call a proper story.”

            He was so pleased with it he decided to show it to Reno.

            “You can’t put _chocobo yellow_ in,” Reno pointed out. “They ain’t got chocobos there. I watched it once. They got whotsit, ‘ostriches’, innit?”

            Rufus conceded the point.

            “That ‘Japan’ place is meant to be Wutai,” said Reno.

            I know, right?” said Rufus. “ _So_ unoriginal.”

            “The satirical element would be more incisive if you allowed the cultural tensions of the post-war period greater influence within the narrative arc,” said Reno. “I feel you glossed those over. Also, she’s out of character. And this guy here, this, uh, hero,” said Reno, “He kinda reminds me of Tseng. Except, you know, sexy.” And he gave Rufus a funny look.

            Rufus felt his cheeks turn slightly pink, but pretended it wasn’t happening. “So, anyway,” he said eagerly, “What do you _think_?”

            Reno shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.” He handed the manuscript back to Rufus, adding, “Just don’t give up the day job, boss.”

            Rufus’s soul burned. He didn’t think he’d ever felt such anger. “Back to work, Turk,” he commanded in icy tones. Reno slouched off, muttering just loudly enough to be heard that his eyes were bleeding, and he ought to be getting danger money. Rufus returned to his office, nursing dark thoughts of roasting Reno alive over the flames of an open fire, turning the spit slowly, slowly, slowly until Reno could bear it no longer and cried out _I take it all back! I loved your fic, sir! It was awesome!_

That’s where Rufus is now, in his office. You can see in the picture that he’s lost in thought – musing, I guess you could call it. He’s not angry any more. His mind is filled with better things. He’s forgotten about torturing Reno to death, because he’s just had an idea for a sequel.

            And this time, he’ll let Elena read it first. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the picture I found at tumblr, OfTurksAndTerrorists, here: http://ofturksandterrorists.tumblr.com/. I don't know who drew it. If it's you, let me know so I can credit you, or remove it, as you prefer.


End file.
